


Duties of a Shield

by qtipping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Kinda, Psychological Torture, Torture, gladnoct - Freeform, he deserves more love and attention, homeboy can't be a perfect shield all the time, if you squint at the end, no beta we die like men, poor Gladio, sorry gladio, torture aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qtipping/pseuds/qtipping
Summary: On his way to a tattoo session with Noctis in tow, they get ambushed. Gladio does his duty to protect Noctis, but now he must survive long enough to be rescued.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This artwork](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/371703) by Kaciart. 



> depression who?? Sorry don't know her because I actually posted something!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, sorry if it's a lil messy it's late and I wanted this damn thing done.
> 
> These works were inspired by the works of the wonderful Kaciart! The other image can be found here: http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/166758579843

Gladio wiped his nose with the back of his hand, staring at the three men coming closer. “Listen up, I’m going to give you an opening. When I do I need you to run as fast as you can.”

“But Gladio-” Noctis pleaded, gripping onto his shield’s sweatshirt.

“Don’t look back. Get help. Got it!?” Gladio spared only a moment to look at his charge, who had tear swelling in his eyes, but was nodding weakly. “I’ll be fine.” He managed his typical smirk and wink, before pushing him away, standing and charging for the three men.

Noctis watched for only a moment, Gladio keeping their attention on him, throwing punches and never letting them get far. Noctis turned and ran, sprinting out of the alleyway and into the brightness. He did not stop, weaved in and out of people as he made his way to the Citadel, but it was so far away, there’s no way he could make it in time!

There! He saw a Crownsguard truck parked before the fountain, guards stationed as they were getting ready for their patrol. He ran to the fountain, tears streaming down his face, unable to call out to the guards and he lunged towards them.

“Highness-” one started, but was quickly silenced by the Prince latching onto his coat.

Noct looked up to him, shouting and pleading, “Th-they’re going to hurt him! G-Gladio told me to run and find help, please!” Instantly another guard was talking into an earpiece, signalling a Code Red and ordering the Citadel to go into lockdown. The guard holding Noctis lifted him, but struggled to take the squirming Prince to the car.

“No! No we gotta save him!” He punched and kicked the guard, who only tightened his grip as he placed the Prince inside the truck.

The guard sat next to him, holding him close. “They will Prince Noctis. We’ll have men go and try to get him, but right now we need to follow your Shield’s orders and get you to safety.”

“I can fight-”

“It’s too dangerous, Highness. Would you want to worry your shield by going back into danger?” Noctis said nothing, he knew Gladio would be mad if he did all that work to get him safe, only for him to go back into danger.

Noctis said nothing as the truck sped off, quickly making its way towards the Citadel.

~~~

Two held onto Gladio, but they were  quickly losing their grip,Gladio’s struggling was too much for them.

_ Surely they do not mean to try and drag me to the van? _

The thought had barely passed his mind when he felt a prick in his neck, the unmistakable feeling of a needle entering his skin.

_ Sedative _ , of course, wouldn't risk a shouting Prince. He pushed the men off him, but the drug was entering his blood stream. His limbs felt heavy, vision blurring and darkening the edges. He vaguely felt hands on him, his body no longer his own as he was dragged to the white van, the door sliding open to reveal the darkness. 

_ At least it’s not Noct, he’s safe, I’ve protected him _ . That was the last thought to enter his mind before he collapsed in the van.

Clarus and Regis were on their way to the gardens for a break when the lockdown alarm sounded, guards quickly sprinting off to their stations, Clarus leading Regis up to his personal chambers.

“Cor,” Clarus called out to their Marshal and friend, who turned with a tight face. “What’s going on?”

Cor swallowed hard, and even Clarus began to worry. “Majesty I... oh shit. Gladio and Noctis were on their way to Gladio’s tattoo session. Supposedly men came and tried to take the Prince. He’s safe, but he said that Gladio was holding them off for Noctis to escape.”

“Where’s Gladio?” Clarus grounded out, knuckles turning white around his fist.

Cor sighed heavily, hanging his head. “They... the guards went to the location the Prince said they were at, but it appears that they took Gladio...”

Regis went to his friend, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him Clarus, he is prepared for this.” Clarus said nothing, staring at the black marble floor, the world around him getting dizzier and dizzier.

Finally he turned around, a guiding hand on his Kings back. “We need to get you to safety.” He began walking as he called out. “Bring Iris to me immediately, and Ignis Scientia as well.” He did not bother looking behind him to see if Cor had followed his orders, he trusted that his friend did.

Ignis was escorted to the Kings Chambers by a ‘Glaive, the ‘Glaive knocking on the large door before opening, informing the King that Ignis was there.

Ignis thanked the soldier before stepping inside, seeing Regis sitting on the edge of the large couch, Clarus pacing back and forth, entire body strung tight like a drawn bow.

Regis gave a soft smile to Ignis as he entered, lifting a hand. “Ah, Ignis, come here son.”

Ignis made his way over to the King, bowing before him before straightening, the questioning coming before he could stop himself. “Is the Prince safe?”

“Yes, yes Noctis is on his way in a Crownsguard vehicle.” Regis comforted, patting the space next to him for Ignis to sit. Ignis followed, but his ever perspective eyes lingered on Claurs, who still paced and mumbled in complete worry.

His eyes stayed on Clarus as he questioned. “...Its Gladio, isn’t it?” He turned to King Regis, who’s smile had disappeared, how holding Ignis close to him.

He gave a solemn nod, “Yes, I’m afraid so. It appears that Noct’s hopeful captors did not wish to leave empty handed.”

Ignis’ eyes casted towards the floor, pushing his glasses up his nose, but turned Clarus. “My sincere apologies Lord Amicitia, I feel I could have stopped this if I have gone with them, helped Gladio fend them off-”

“Then we’d just have two kidnapped instead of one,” Clarus sighed, turning to Ignis, who’s green eyes shined with grief. “You’re fine Ignis, you did all that you could.”

“And we will find him,” Regis spoke aloud, focusing on his friend. “We have our best looking into the situation.”

“And Gladio was trained in handling interrogation,” Ignis added, “including torture methods. He is probably more suited to handle this than me or the Prince...”

Clarus stepped towards the young chamberlain, kneeling and taking Ignis’ hand in his own calloused ones. “That is very true Ignis, forgive my worrying, we shall see him returned home.”

“Well of course you’re worrying,” Ignis noted. “He is your son, even if this is his duty as Shield, a father is always protective of his children.”

The two older men laughed, “Indeed Ignis, it is perfectly normal for a father to worry.” Regis noted and gave a pointed look to his Shield, who could only gaze away, lost in his own grief and self-doubt.

“Dad!” A cry took them away, turning towards the door, only for King Regis’ vision to be encompassed by his son.

“Noctis,” Regis sighed in utter relief, wrapping his arms around his son and holding him close, but Noctis fought and wiggled away.

“Dad, we need to get Gladio back!” Noctis ordered, Regis saw the familiar determination behind those deep ocean eyes. “The captors couldn’t have gotten far, I saw a white van, if we send out men to begin a search within a ten mile radius then-”

“My son,” Regis soothed, running a hand through the silk black hair. “We are already on it, there appeared to be a camera pointed just outside the alleyway, we will look at the footage and get the plate number of the van. Right now, you and I both need to stay here so that they do not have to worry about guarding us.”

“But we can fight!” Noctis debated, “I’ve been training every day and you have the weapons of past kings! We could provide more support for them.”

“Highness, are you saying that our men are incapable of conducting a search and rescue mission?” Clarus carefully questioned, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Noctis huffed, crossing his arms, “No... they’re capable... but this is Gladio! We can’t let anything be at risk!”

“Of course, Highness,” Clarus gave a small bow, a reassuring smile. “That is why I am going personally along with the Marshal to ensure your shield’s safe return.”

Regis sat back, arms crossed, “Oh are you now?”

Clarus turned, shoulders back and eyes daring. “If you will permit me Majesty, but I do believe you and Prince Noctis are rather safe within the Citadel.”

“And if both of our shields become injured?”

“I suppose it is a risk we will have to take.” Regis knew he was not winning this fight, Clarus would jump out of the damned window if it meant making sure he saw his son home safety. Regis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t stop you,” Regis began. “Astrals know I could not stop you, but please, please my friend. Don’t do anything stupid or reckless, I’d rather not have Iris be down both a father and a brother.”

Noctis saw Clarus’ shoulders drop, a sigh releasing him. “Of course, Majesty. Shall I relay this message to Cor?” He added with a cocked smirk that Noctis swore was a mirror to Gladio’s.

Regis huffed a laugh, “He probably needs to hear it, just as a reminder that age is catching up to him.” The King a Shield laughed a little more, Ignis quick to bring Noctis close and comfort him, trying to distract his mind.

“Daddy!” Iris’ voice shattered through the chambers, the small girl running to her father, a moggle plush clutched in her hand. She leaped into his arms, Clarus easily swooped her up and held her close, rubbing a hand along her back.

“W-where’s Gladdy?” Iris questioned, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes.

Clarus hushed her, soothing her hair. “He’s gone right now, but I’m going to bring him back, okay? I’m going to make sure he comes home.”

“I want him back now!”

“I know sweetheart, I know, just wait a little longer, then you’ll get to see him again.” Iris did not respond, only bury her head into her father’s chest, her sobs broken and loud.

After a couple of minutes Iris’ sobs quieted down, the crying exhausting her as she now rested in her father’s arms, face at peace.

“Give her to me,” Regis lifted an arm, allowing Clarus to ease the child into his. “Go, bring your soon back home.” Clarus nodded and turned, existing the room and heading to where the investigation was happening.

~~~

_ Don’t reveal you are awake _ , his father’s voice was the first to enter his mind. After he drifted back into consciousness. He stayed silent, limp, as his senses awakened and took on his surroundings. He was in a chair, wooden, his hands were tied behind it. He could feel rope digging into his ankle and on his thigh; secured to the front legs of his chair.

“I said the Prince,” a hushed voice hissed. “That doesn't look like the prince!”

A weak voice returned, “He’s the next best thing! His shield probably knows more than the Prince.”

“You better be right, I’ve risked too much for this to fail!”  _ Information, they want information _ .

He heard steps approach, clicking and echoing nearer.

_ Warehouse _ ? He heard something being lifted, something metal with something sloshing inside. He had no time to prepare before ice water was tossed over him, his eyes shot open, blinking away the water and fighting the shiver that wrecked his body.

“Wakey wakey!” The leader’s voice was next to him, the hot breath against his ear. Gladio said nothing, staring at his captors with vicious eyes. The leader moved to the stand in front of him, along with one of the man who attacked him and Noctis. The leader had a wide smile, it was surprisingly bright and happy considering what Gladio had heard minutes ago. “Not in a talking mood, huh?” The leader frowned. “Too cold? Yeah cold is a bitch, here, lemme help you.” He picked up another bucket, this one steaming and bubbling. This time Gladio had time to prepare, the scalding heat before it was tossed onto him. Gladio bit his lip to avoid crying out, his skin feeling like it was melting off. He threw the bucket, it bounded off the Shield’s head and crashed to the ground.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” the Leader bent forward, hands resting on his knees. “You’re going to answer any and all questions we have, you refuse? We get ways for you to talk. Try to escape? We drag you back and make you suffer. Got it?” Gladio said nothing, clenching his jaw to avoid spitting in the man’s face.

_ Don’t give them reason to torture you, just keep quiet, do nothing _ .

The man went to a tray to Gladio’s left, tools laid out on the table, what they were Gladio could not tell, but he knew they were used to inflict some type of pain.

“Question one,” the man gazed down at the tools, thinking. “How many people are stationed as the Prince’s guard.” Gladio said nothing, the man turned and smiled. “Well?”

“For King and Crown.” Gladio snapped, reciting the words drilled into his head from a young age. The man gave a laugh, approaching with plyers in hand.

He stopped before Gladio, a bushy brow raised. “Is that your final answer?”

Gladio growled this time. “Go the hell.”

“Wrong answer!” The man shouted and took Gladio’s hand, holding it flat as he took his finger nail in the pliers, pulling and ripping it off of him. Gladio bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing the pain as his nail was ripped from him.

“Would you like to guess again?” The man questioned, his smile wicked and cruel.

“For King and Crown.” Gladio spoke again, the man's smile was gone as soon as it came, he took another nail and pulled slowly.

Gladio by the end was shaking from pain, fighting to avoid crying out.

_ You can scream _ , Cors lectured echoed in his mind.  _ It’s okay to scream and cry, it’s normal in these situations, it doesn’t make you weak _ . Still, he fought the urge to follow his instincts, but after his fourth nail was pulled, he felt whimpers escape his throat, and the men laughed cruelly at him.

“Ya know for a shield, I’d expect you to be tougher,” the man circled back to the table. “Can’t even handle a couple of fingernails being pulled? What’re you gonna do when you actually gotta take a bullet for the Prince?”  _ They’ll try to get inside your head, don’t believe a word they say _ . Gladio tried to believe that, tired to follow the lecture Cor gave him, but he couldn’t help himself but from listening to the man’s words. After all, he was right, how could he handle this little pain when he was responsible for using his  _ body  _ as a shield for the King?

The man approached with Gladio again, this time it was cables connected to a battery, he tapped them together, electricity sparking from them.

“Let’s try this again,” He sneered. “How many guards are stationed for the Prince at one time?”

_ Don’t fail them now, you might be weak, but no coward _ .

“For King and Crown.”

The man’s smile sent shivers down his spine. “I’ll have fun breaking you.”

~~~

Clarus and Cor lead the investigation, watching the street cameras carefully, tracking the white van through the streets of Insomnia. It was fairly easy, despite the speed the van went, but eventually they saw it turn down an alley with a warehouse by it, the car suddenly stopping next to it.

“Send me that address, I want a squad of Crownsguards and Glaives ready.” Clarus barked orders as he marched out, Cor in tow, the men hastily saluting and following orders.

“Clarus,” Cor called out, but the Shield kept marching on. “Clarus!” He placed a hand on the armored shoulder, the owner turning with fire in his amber eyes.

“If you even think about telling me to stay here-” Clarus began, but Cor held up his hands in surrender.

“I was simply going to say that we need to be careful and think this through, if they managed to organize this kidnapping this thoroughly, they probably have some other tricks up their sleeves.”

Clarus sighed heavily, turning, calling over his shoulder. “Of course I know that. Now are you going to be helpful and follow or give some more useless advice?” Cor followed his friend, never really remembering the last time he was this shaken up, this short-fused...

Cor drove the car, Clarus in the passenger seat with his eyes glued to the road, as if hoping to find his son running out looking for help, or the white van appearing in front of them. Neither happened, and instead they parked a block from the warehouse, men and women filing out and stalking up to the seemingly abandoned concrete building.

Clarus saw the white van parked outside, where it was when they watched the video, perfect. He turned and began his orders, “Glaives I want you warping to the top floor, take out any long range weaponry and focus on damage control. Crownsguard, you’re with  me and Cor, you’ll be involved in the initial breach and taking care of the men on the ground floor. Remember, the King gave us permission to kill, but only if necessary. If they surrender you do not attack, got it?”

“Yes sir,” hushed voices rang out, determined look on each of those faces. The Glaives warped up to the buildings across the way, staying hidden as they others made their approach.

They went to the door, two guards carrying a battering ram made their way up the stairs. Clarus gave the signal and the guards wound back, letting the battering ram descend on the metal door, it opened instantly.

Men filed in, guns ready, Glaives warped inside and shattered windows, knives ready, only there was no one to attack. The warehouse was empty, completely empty, as if they never even set up in there.

Clarus ground his teeth, scanning the area, looking for a shred of evidence that they were here, that his son was here...

“Search the area,” Cor ordered and the guards went to work, scanning every nook and cranny for anything that could show where they were.

Clarus and Cor approached the table at the center of the warehouse, a single note atop of it.

 

_ Oops, looks like someone just missed the party. _

 

Cor took the note carefully, using his bandana to avoid tampering with any prints that could be on it. He took the note just in time for Clarus to smash his fist through the table, the wood cracking and splitting in two.

“Clarus,” Cor soothed. “We’ll find him, they couldn’t have gotten far, and there are camera outside the warehouse.” Clarus said nothing, only staring at the split wood, Cor did not want to know what he was thinking, what dark thoughts were plaguing his mind.

“He’s too young to deal with this.” Clarus mumbled, Cor almost missed what the Shield said as he turned around and stalked out of the warehouse, but he did hear it and stared at his friend with an empathetic gaze.

Gladio will be okay, he’s been trained, they’ll find him.

~~~

Gladio spit out more blood as another blow was struck across his head, he felt blood dribble down the side of his face, sticking to his hair. He was blacking out, missing the questions, not like he would answer them anyway. He could not even tell if he was speaking anymore,  _ what  _ he was speaking.

“F-for King... a-and crown.” He slurred, head lulling to the side, the blackness in his vision threatening to take over.

Another douse of frozen water was launched at him, shattering him awake and shivering violently.

“Don’t know why you’re sayin’ that,” The man smirked. “You’ve already answered most of my questions-”  _ liar _ . “What you don’t remember? Yeah you were spilling your guts just a second ago, tellin’ me all the juicy secrets. You failed Shield, just give up and tell us what else we need to know and we’ll let you go with most of your bones still in place.” He’s lying, he must be, there’s no way he’d ever tell him a single thing about Noctis or the royal family. Still, he cannot remember the events from just minutes ago, maybe he did tell them? Maybe his brain got the best of him and decided to spill the information in return for a quick death.

_ I’ve failed _ .

“So, what’s it gonna be?” The man questioned again, studying the, now mostly bloodied, tray of torture devices. Even knowing he probably spilled secrets, that he might spill more, he’d never willingly say anything.  _ At least I can die knowing I didn’t say anything _ .

“...For King an-” He didn’t finish as another shock of electricity coursed through his body, muscles seizing and spasming.

~~~

“What do you mean you don’t have anything?!” Clarus shouted into his ear piece, Cor almost felt sorry for the recipients of his anger, almost.

“N-none of the footage showed a car leaving the area... sir.” The guard replied meekly, his voice barely audible through the ear piece.

“They had to have gone  _ somewhere _ ,” Clarus hissed. “You find me my son!” Cor chose to not try and comfort his friend and instead turned to the guard that was telling him the report of the warehouse. Nothing, typical, they found absolutely nothing besides the note he placed in an evidence bag. Clarus was right, they couldn’t have gotten far without the cameras picking them up, which meant they must have still been around this area, but there was only small buildings and shacks, nothing that could be held as a fort for a hostage with the guards that they had.

“Wait,” A female guard spoke up. “I think I have something.” There was a moment of tense silence, filled with Clarus and Cor looking at each other nervously. “Yeah, yeah that’s definitely him. The driver from the white van is the same driver here, a different car, a SUV model. He just turned onto 6th street and is making his way west.”

“That’s two blocks from us,” Cor questioned. “How the hell did they get there without the cameras finding out?”

“Not important,” Clarus shut down his question real quick, going back to the earpiece. “You tell me where that SUV is now.” Another silence, the two could faintly hear keys being pressed on the other side of their ear pieces.

Then, “Okay, the SUV just pulled into another alley on 10th. There’s no cameras in the alley so I can’t see where they went but there’s at least two warehouses there.” Clarus and Cor exchanged similar, stone faced looks, Cor left to gather the men while Clarus ran a hand through his buzzed hair. He prayed to the astrals that they weren’t too late.

~~~

Gladio’s scream echoed off the warehouse walls, his last remaining strength spent struggling against the white hot brand that was currently pressed against palm. A similar burn was on his other hand, which was too accompanied by a painful scream. The man finally let the brand off his skin, he would have collapsed to the floor if the binds digging into his skin had not kept him up.

“Why are you still so stubborn!” The man grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked back, Glado felt more blood fall from his broken nose, the chair tipping back. “You’ve already given us information, just admit you’re a miserable piece of shit who can’t bother protecting his Prince and tell us what we need to know!” That can’t be true, Gladio refused to believe it, he couldn’t have told them anything... and yet he could feel his mind trying to betray him even now.

“F...F-for K-”

“I swear to the Six if you say ‘for king and crown’ one more fucking time I will burn your fucking dick off!”  _ Then I won’t have to produce more future failures to the Crown _ .

He never got the chance to say anything else, shouts erupted from above him, the man let go of his hair and it sent him crashing to the ground, gasping out in pain it had on his body. He caught a glimpse of his father and Cor rushing into the warehouse before blackness took his vision again.

~~~

Cor and the Crownsguards made quick work of the captors, having to take down most as they refused to cooperate, but a few put their weapons down and lifted their hands in surrender. Soon the warehouse was being emptied of all its inhabitants, and him and Clarus made their way to the limp body that laid on the floor.

Cor got the chair upright as gently as possible, but the occupant still groaned in pain, eyes fluttering open. Clarus knelt before his son and laid a hand on his less bloodied shoulder, “Son?” He called out and gave the shoulder a slight shake. The younger shield groaned, eyes tightening, trying to keep the attention away from him. “It’s okay Gladio, it’s me.” Clarus reassured, and he thanked the Astrals as his son shot up his head to stare at his father.

“...Dad?” Gladio gasped, his throat dry and scratchy, and swallowing only made it hurt more. He felt a tug behind him and tried to look back, stopping at the pain that shot through him. Cor got into his eyesight, nodding slowly, eyes gentle.

“It’s alright, son.” Clarus soothed. “We’re getting you out of here.” Gladio breathed heavily, eyes casted downwards, shame filling him. Clarus rested his free hand on cheek, carefully turning him back to face his father.

“What’s wrong, son?” Clarus saw those young eyes filled with pain, pain that he should not have experienced yet. Then he saw silver lining them, and witnessed his son begin sobbing before him.

“I...I blacked out,” He choked out between sobs. “I got h-hit in the h-head pretty ha-hard... I tried dad... I tried to stay q-quiet... but I-I-I think I... Gods-” He broke down, head falling forward and tears escaping him. Clarus brought him close, a hand on the back of his head and the other on his back, bringing his son in close.

Gladio felt the binds loosen on his hands and he brought them forward, clutching onto his father’s uniform.

“I failed.” Clarus nearly missed the comment, but he brought Gladio back, having his son stare into his determined eyes.

Clarus shook his head firmly, “No Gladio. You in no way failed. You tried to keep quiet, tried to avoid saying any information. You could not stop them from beating your head, if your mind betrayed you that is not your fault.” Clarus saw more tears spill down those cheeks, he gripped the back of his son’s neck harder. “Gladio listen to me. I couldn’t give two damns if you spilled all of the secrets of the Citadel. All I care about is that you and the Prince are safe. We got the captures, we’ll figure out if you said any information, but they cannot use it against us.”

“I should have been ready,” Gladio sobbed again. “I-I trained, I did everything y-you said to do, but I still failed.”

“It’s one thing to learn how to handle torture,” Cor’s voice soothed by him. “It’s another to actually put it into practice. Training can only get you ready for so much, if anything it is our fault for letting this happen to you at such a young age.”  _ One job, you had one fucking job and you couldn’t even do that _ !

“Shh it’s alright son, everything will be alright.” Clarus soothed, betting the damp hair. Gladio had not even noticed he was crying until then, noticing the pinkish drops of tears and blood fall to the floor. He tried to reign in his tears, to stop showing such weakness in front of his father and mentor, but that was easier said than done.

He sobbed into his father’s uniform for a while, clutching onto him and muttering his apologies over and over again. Clarus just held onto him and soothed his hair until he finally went limp from exhaustion, sleep taking him.

Clarus lifted his son into his arms, carrying him from the warehouse and towards the citadel ambulance that awaited for them.

“I’ll question the survivors, see if he did say any information, and see what is was.” Cor spoke, but made no move to leave his friends side.

Clarus set his son down on the gurney, speaking softly. “He didn’t give any information.”

“How do you know?” Cor questioned, “Kid seemed pretty sure he did, I mean given the lack of experience, his age, wouldn’t be much of a suprise of something slipped. They roughed him up pretty bad.” Pretty bad was an understatement, between the burns on his hands, his knees being smashed along with his head, it’ll take at least two months before he’s able to train again.

“He’s an Amicitia,” Clarus explained. “It’s in our blood to keep secrets to our grave, Gladio said nothing.” Clarus leaned in a kissed his sons forehead gently, then climbed into the ambulance, Cor across from him, and they went back to the Citadel where Clarus knew his son would be safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio is now on the road to recovery, but it's harder than what most might think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I'm surprised I updated it this fast
> 
> but it's a pleasant surprise!! So maybe I'll be getting my other wips out here soon as well!! (it's a dream I can have)

Gladiolus did not stirr for a whole day and a half, a whole day of Clarus sitting in silent vigil, waiting for his son to come back to him. Iris visited as often as she was allowed, the first time she cried and hugged him, thinking he was dead. Now she just sits and waits with her father, occasionally nudging her brother, as if trying to nudge him from his slumber.

Noctis visited with Ignis later, the two would sit and watch their friend sleep, Noctis would say nothing, but he would continually curl up next to his shield and nap with him, much to Ignis’ dislike. The advisor would always make sure Gladio’s pillow was fluffed, the blanket tucked neatly around him, and watched the steady heart monitor beep.

When Clarus was not with his son, he needs to be next to his King at a council meeting or Regis demanding he eat something and sleep in a bed, Cor would take his place. The Marshal would stand against the wall by the bed, standing guard for the younger shield, always at attention and ready for even the slightest change.

It was a long day and a half.

~~~

Gladio first heard the beeping to his right, the constant, rhythmic beeping that was honestly starting to annoy him. Then he felt the lights threatening to blind his closed eyes, the intensity they gave off made him further shut his eyes. Then he felt the softness under him, and on top of him, and all around him.

He tried to remember what was happening,  _ is this another trick? Are they up to something _ ? He heard a snore to his left, that caused him to crack open his eyes and blink frantically to adjust to the lights.

He saw his father, uniform and all, sleeping in the chair next to him: it looked entirely uncomfortable and his father’s restless face showed for it, that and the dark circles under his eyes.

_ Right, they saved me _ . Gladio finally remembered Cor and Clarus rushing into the warehouse with Crownsguards in tow, cutting his captors down. He remembered his father’s hands on him, holding him while he cried. Six, Gladio  _ cried  _ in front of his father! He hasn’t done that since he was a child!

_ A failure of a Shield _ , the words the man spit at him were burned into his mind, reminding him just how much he did not deserve this saving.

He didn’t want to face that, face that punishment for not being able to get out of that situation, for babbling secrets, for Gods damned crying like a baby when he should have taken the torture like a man, like a shield.

He turned away, unable to look at his father anymore, but the sudden movement sent a spark of pain through his body and he gasped.

He felt the chair creak as Clarus sat bolt upright, staring at his sons.

“Gladio?” He questioned, his voice even sounded tired. Gladio closed his eyes, not wanting to face the man he’d failed to become.

_ At least take this like a fucking man you coward _ ! He willed his body to take a deeper breath and he slowly turned his head back to face his father.

“How are you feeling?” Clarus leaned forward, his hands itched to take his son’s, but he painfully remembered the bandages wrapped carefully around them.

Gladio tried to swallow, his throat painfully dry, but still he croaked out. “I’m fine.” It was a lie, a damned lie. He felt like shit, he probably had a concussion, his entire body hurt, even moving his head hurts, but he’s already failed at so many things, he can’t fail at this.

In the midst of his mind rambling, he saw his father pick up a glass of water from the bedside table, leaning forward, ready to press it against his lips.

In an instant Gladio was heaving himself up, determined to hold the glass himself, do drink on his own. He groaned at the sudden movement, but hid his pain from his father, reaching out to grab the cup in his hand.

He got a firm grip before crying out in the seething pain that ripped through his body, dropping the glass, Clarus there to catch it before it broke. Gladio stared at his bandages, aware of the burns on his hands, his hand throbbing from the pain.

“It’s alright,” Clarus soothed, pressing the glass to his lips. “We used a high potion for your major injuries, the rest will heal in due time. Drink, my son.” He left no room for argument as he tilted the glass back, allowing Gladio to gulp down as much water as he could.

He emptied the glass, Clarus refilled it and set it back down, waiting for the order to do the motion again.

When Gladio felt like his throat was not on fire, he spoke. “Is Noctis safe?”

“Yes, the Prince is safe,” Clarus chuckled. “He was taken to the Citadel and stayed with his father the entire time, don’t worry about him.” How could he say that? That’s his entire job, to worry and protect his Prince, unless...

Unless he didn’t have to worry about Noctis every again unless Clarus removed him as Shield to the Prince.

“What’s wrong, son?” Clarus questioned, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it still sent shivers down his spine.  _ Don’t break down in front of him, it makes sense, you failed as a protector to the Crown _ .

Instead, he looked to his father, quickly thinking of a cover-up, “Did... did some of the men surrender?”

Clarus straightened at the question, nodding. “There was a few, they are being held in the Citadel Jail awaiting prosecution. We questioned them after the Doctors declared your condition stable.”  _ Questioning to see what information I gave up _ . “Gladio,” Clarus’ voice brought Gladio back to looking at his father. “With each one we question, none said you gave any information.”

Gladio refused to believe such a thing, “B-but he said-”

“He said that to get inside your head. He wanted you to believe you had so that you might feel more inclined to give up information. But you didn’t, you said nothing other than what we taught you to say.” He wanted to believe that, to believe he did his duty and performed well. Still, even if he didn’t give up information, he still failed at so many other things: he let himself get captured, he agitated his captors, he did not even  _ attempt  _ to get free of the bindings, and he was weak to the torture they gave.

“Gladio?” His father’s voice hit him, the tone making him realize he’s asked him something. He cringed, his father probably well aware he was too lost in his own thoughts to listen to his commanding officer. “Is it alright for the doctor to do a check up on you?” He looked up and noticed the Citadel Doctor there next to him, an elderly woman with a warm smile that always comforted him as a kid. He nodded, dearly hoping the potion healed him enough to satisfy.

Doctor Ismail performed her exam, shining lights in his eyes and ears, listening to his breathing, following her finger, the whole nine yards. Gladio hated how exhausted he felt after such a simple task as sitting there and performing mundane things. She wrote her findings on her clipboard, giving a look to Clarus that he was well familiar with.

“How soon until I can start training again?” Gladio questioned, brown eyes almost begging to let him back in the training room.  _ Maybe if I train harder, improve faster, Father will still let me be a Shield _ .

“Well,” Doctor Ismail started. “Even after the Hi-Potion, you still have a mild concussion, which will take probably two to fully recover from. Add the burns to your hands and bruised knees... it will take almost two months before you can begin weapons training again.” His stomach flipped, two months, two months of sitting on his ass doing nothing. Two months not getting better to protect Noctis, to be  _ with  _ Noctis...

He couldn’t allow that to happen. “Why don’t you just give me some more Hi-Potions?”

“Because using too many in a short amount of time will cause your body to become numb to the effects.” Even as Doctor Ismail explained the reason, the perfectly valid reason, Gladio clenched his jaw and tried to keep the panic in his stomach to a minimal.

Clarus spoke again, his voice the rare gentler tone he normally reserves for Iris. “Gladio, don’t focus on that right now, focus on getting better.”  _ Because you’ll never be training for the good of the Crown ever again your weak coward _ . He could only nod, fearing that talking will cause the tears to fall from his traitorous eyes.

When Gladio said nothing, only staring at his bandaged hands, Clarus turned to Doctor Ismail, “Thank you. Would you please let the Marshal know that Gladio is awake and Iris is allowed to see him now?” Gladio’s heart lifted a little at the mention of his sister, knowing her bright smile will never cease to cheer him up.

The Doctor left and not ten seconds later the door opened again, a small girl with bouncy brown hair bolting straight for the bed.

“Gladdy!” She cried out, leaping onto the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, still clutching her Moogle stuffie. Gladio embraced her the best he could with his mangled hands, kissing the top of her head and holding her close as she cried into his shirt. She shouted into his shirt, “Don’t ever do that again! You scared me and Daddy left to go find you a-and you wouldn’t wake up even when I brought Cup Noodles in here-”

“Iri,” Gladio soothed, gently pulling her away to look at him. “I promise I won’t get kidnapped again and scare you, okay?”

She crossed her arms, nodding vigorously. “Good! ‘Cause Mr. Moogly says I’m allowed to eat all your cup noodles if you do that again!” She clutched Mr. Moogly close to her chest, a mischievous smile on her lips.

“Oh did he? Because I recall Mr. Moogly telling me I’m allowed to give a certain someone tickles if they take my cup noodles.” He lunged forward, tickling the small sides with his (thankfully) unburned fingers. Iris’ giggles and laughs filled the room, the girl rolling around and trying to escape the ruthless hands. Gladio finally relented and dropped his hands, letting Iris move and plop down on his lip, leaning into his chest.

“Speaking of food,” Clarus spoke, his tone light and filled with humor from the display. “Do you think you’re up to eating something?” Gladio nodded despite the nausea that panged his stomach, he needed to eat, to increase his strength and speed the recovery. Clarus stood and began walking towards the door, “I’ll get some lunch, Iris, make sure he stays awake please.”

“Sure thing daddy!” Iris cheers back, Gladio wincing at the loud voice that made it seem like a sword was plunging through his ears and into his brain.

Iris did keep him awake, talking to him and telling him about what is happening at school and how her teacher is being  _ completely  _ unreasonable in not letting her climb to the roof of the jungle gym.

“I mean they’ve seen me do it before,” Iris sighs. “And yeah I got in trouble for doing that but I didn’t fall! It’s not even that far of a drop down and- Gladdy wake up!” She slapped his face, causing him to groan in pain due to the bruises that littered his cheeks. But he opened his eyes, giving a small, apologetic smile to his sister. “Daddy says you have ta stay awake, dummy!” Iris chided, “He says because of your con...concushion... you can’t go to sleep yet!”

Gladio kissed the top of her head, “I know, sorry Iris, I’ll try to stay awake.” It was incredibly hard, his eyelids were heavy and his body craved to rest, wanting to lie down and drift off.

The door opened, but instead of Clarus walking in, Noctis ran into the room and to the side of the bed, face in a furious pout.

He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around Gladio’s neck, locking him in a death grip of a hug.

Gladio laughed, “Missed you too, Princess.” Noctis did not let go, only huffed into his medical shirt.

“You’re not allowed to do that again!” Noctis tried to make his voice sound commanding and serious, but it was hard when it was the voice of a 12-year-old and muffled from the shirt.

“I think what His Highness is trying to say,” Ignis spoke as he stepped behind Noctis and placed a warm hand on Gladio’s shoulder. “Is that you had us all incredibly worried.”

Noctis lifted his head and glared at Ignis, “I know what I said!” He turned back to Gladio, “You’re not allowed to be stupid and get yourself captured again!” It was like his father’s sword was rammed through his chest,  _ I am a failure, even Noctis sees it _ .

“I’ll try my best, Princess,” Gladio smiled despite the deathly conflict in his chest. He wonders if his father has told Noctis yet, or if they’ll just slyly replace him with Iris and hope he doesn’t notice. He thought it best not to bring it up now- no, he couldn’t even process that fate now.

Clarus now entered just as Ignis was setting up a tray across Gladio, a bowl with steaming, delicious smelling soup.

“While I know you would rather have Cup Noodles,” Ignis explained. “You need a healthy, nutritious diet to help a speedy recovery.”

Gladio lifted a brow, “You saying Cup Noodles are neither healthy nor nutritious?”

“It pains me that you’d even ask that,” Ignis sighed but brought a small smile, all the same, pushing his glasses up.

Iris groaned and peered over the soup, licking her lips. “You better eat that quickly, Gladdy!”

“Iris I have your lunch right here,” Clarus chided, holding up a tray with a sandwich and chips. Iris bounded off the bed and bounced over, sitting at one of the chairs and digging into her own lunch.

Gladio picked up the plastic spoon, balancing it between the un-burn part of his hands as he dipped it into the soup. He managed to bring up a spoonful of steaming soup, blowing it carefully before placing the plastic into his mouth.

The soup tasted delicious as if anything Ignis makes  _ isn’t _ a life-changing experience every time. He was careful to go slow, to savor the taste, he doesn't know when he’ll get another gourmet meal like this again. The others continued talking while they ate, the two Amicitias occasionally pitching in their own thoughts and comments on whatever the topic was.

Soon enough Gladio felt warmth settle in his stomach, the empty tray is picked up by Ignis and placed to the side. His eyes were getting heavier by the minute, blinking because a work of their own, let alone keeping up with the conversation.

“Get some rest, my son.” Clarus rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re exhausted, we can work on your recovery again tomorrow.” Gladio did not bother to argue before he relaxed into the bed and let sleep take him.

~~~

Gladio woke up to a dark room, the beeping a familiar sound, and it wasn’t long before he was struggling to sit up in the bed.

He sat in silence for a long time, testing his limbs, stretching as far as his injuries would let him. His father said they would continue to work on recovery today, but for how long? If they want him in bed for a week, they will probably work with him little at a time, focusing more on getting Iris up and ready to be the shield for Noctis.

_ Maybe I can speed things up, show them that I’m not a lost cause _ . The thought bounced around in his mind for a while, figuring out what he could actually do to speed things up. Standing would be first, standing and walking without a limp, without trouble or show of weakness.

He decided to start there, slowly bringing his legs to the side of the bed, hands gripping the mattress hard. 

The tile was cold, his bare feet flexing and stretching on the ground, trying to get them ready for when he stood.

He went slowly, gripping the technology around him and hoisting himself up until all his weight was settled on his feet.

The first to give out was his knees, his body falling forward and only his hand gripping the headboard kept him from falling face first.

He hissed from the pain that shot through his body at the burns being pressured that way, but he ignored it in favor of lifting himself back up, holding the head board carefully as he bent and unbent his knees. When he felt confident that his knees could take the extra exertion he moved his grip to the device again, holding it carefully as he examined the floor before him.

The cord that monitored his heart rate was long, it allowed him to go all the way around the bed to the other side, but not much after that. He knew the device would send an alarm if it measured no heart rate, he being caught will only make him lose his chance of ever being a Shield again. He moved slowly, taking deep breaths as he lifted his leg and brought it forward, pressing weight onto it slowly, finally shifting his weight so that he could repeat the process with his other leg.

It took a lot, more than what Gladio liked, even with the secret training it would be a while before he’s fully recovered.

He made to take another step, a faster one, but his knee gave out and this time he could not grasp anything as he fell, only holding hands out in front of him to shield him from the fall.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood when his burns collided with the floor, the pain causing his knees to collapse and the bruises were hit. Every attempt to move was excruciating, he could hardly see straight the pain was so bad.

When he tried to get his hands under him to lift, he managed to lift six inches before the bandages slipped on the floor and he went face first into the tail, then black.

~~~

Clarus entered the medical wing with breakfast in hand, a piece of toast with yogurt and orange juice, hardly something so satisfying for an Amicitia, but it would have to do for the time being.

He nurse opened the door for him, reporting no incident during the night, good, that was good. He entered the room only to stop in his tracks, blinking at the empty bed that lay before him.

He dropped the tray and rushed to the bed, the nurse not far behind. He lifted the sheets in a frenzy, eyes searching for anything,  _ anything  _ out of place.

“My Lord,” The nurse gasped at the foot of the bed, Clarus made his way around and saw the cause.

Gladio was collapsed on the floor, hands out before him and legs bent awkwardly behind him, there was blood around his head. He knelt and carefully took his son, flipping him over so his head rested on his thighs.

He must have fallen and hit his head, blood was coming from his nose, not a break, but it certainly was nasty.

“Shit, help me get him up!” He ordered, suddenly other nurses and the doctor were there, expertly lifting Gladio and situating him onto the bed, the Doctor getting to work on the wounds.

Clarus stood back and let them work, but his eyes never left the body on the bed.

_ Why was he even out of bed? He knew he should be resting! What the hell was he thinking _ !

The Doctor’s assessment and treatment were quick, rebandaging the hands, two potions for the new wounds, and pain-relief fluid now being pumped into his arms.

The Doctor turned and sighed, “The concussion was not worsened, so that’s good. Blisters opened on his hand and had to be seen to, meaning it will take them a little longer to fully heal.”

“How the hell did this happened?” Clarus found himself asking, he knew the Doctor could not give a truthful answer to that, but something was better than nothing.

“Well,” she began. “It looks like he was trying to walk, where to I don’t know, but the sudden exertion caused his knees to give out from the unprepped work. He must have tried to catch himself with his hands, which only caused further pain, and he ended up taking the hitting face first.” Clarus sighed, it made sense, everything but the  _ why  _ of it all!

“Thank you, I’ll let you know if anything changes,” Clarus said as a dismissal to the Doctor left, a train of nurses behind her. He slipped into the chair and grabbed Gladio’s arm, stroking it soothingly more for his nerves than for Gladio’s slumber.   
  


~~~

When Gladio awoke again, he felt the light behind his eyelids, warming him. He also felt numb, limp like he was on a cloud, his body floating. He opened his eyes blearily and looked around, catching his father’s gaze locked onto him, worry written in the lines of his face.

“...dad...” Gladio grumbled. “W...wha’ happen’?”

Clarus gave a small smile, “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me, we found you collapsed on the ground like you had fallen, but you couldn’t have fallen from the bed.” Gladio blinked, slowly remembering the events that led up to the blackness, him trying to walk and failing,  _ like everything else _ .

He didn’t know why, maybe it was the drugs they were pumping into him via the IV, but he turned his head away from his father, stating. “I... I was tryin’ to train.”

“Train? Gladio why on Eos were you trying to train now! You are still bedridden, you’ll need to go through proper recovery first before moving on to training.”

“I...I needed to rec’ver fast’r... so I could... so I could stay as Shield.” He felt tears prick at his eyes, he could not even get enough control of his body as they began rolling down his cheeks.

Clarus blinked, mouth falling open, shocked beyond belief at what he was hearing. He carefully turned Gladio back to face him, the young Shield revealing his tear streaks, and the ones still rolling from his eyes.

“Oh Gladio,” Clarus soothed as he whipped the tears away. “Why would we take away your position as Shield?”

Gladio hiccuped, “I-I failed. I... was stup’d-”

“Hush now,” Clarus rested both of his hands on his cheeks. “You were not stupid, you are young and still have much training to do. Gladio what happened was not your fault in any way! You performed your duty and got the Prince to safety, nothing else could have prepared you for the torture.” Gladio continued to sob, Clarus letting him and wiping the tears when needed, giving soothing hushes. When Gladio finally managed to calm down and teetered on the edge of sleep, Clarus kissed his temple. “You will always be the shield, no matter what. And I will always be proud of you no matter what.” He stayed with Gladio while he slept, informing the King he will not be at the meetings today due to the recent events.

~~~

Gladio went through consciousness and sleep throughout several days while his wounds healed, many times he spent his waking periods crying and apologizing over and over again to Clarus or Cor for being stupid, the two older men only shushed him and told him he did the right thing. He remembered Iris talking to him, getting his mind off things, but he also remembered her telling him she was proud of him and that he was definitely staying as Noct’s Shield because she was too small to carry his swords.

And Noctis, he came in several times, the first time he was in a frenzy; nearly shouting at Gladio for thinking he would ever denounce Gladio as his shield.

The Doctor took him off the fluids once most of the damages were healed, and now he was able to stay awake throughout almost the entire day.

Most of it was spent with Noct: who sat with him and talked to him and wished he could hurry up and get better so that Noctis could “kick his ass for once.” Gladio laughed and playfully shoved him, Ignis pushing up his glasses to hide his smile.

Gladio finally realized as he and Noct laid side by side in the bed, that while he still had a lot to learn; he knew he would be Noct’s Shield for life, and did not regret it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and please remember to leave kudos and comments! They mean so much!!!


End file.
